


Magnetism

by MistressScimitar



Series: In which Minho is whipped, but the feeling is mutual, so Jisung is too. [5]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Getting Together, Han Jisung | Han is Whipped, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, M/M, Mild Angst, Minus a lot of supernatual things actually happening, Mutual Pining, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:54:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24487792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressScimitar/pseuds/MistressScimitar
Summary: The first time Jisung met Minho he was way out of his element.It wasn’t that Jisung was a homebody. It’s just that crowds often overwhelmed him. He was far more likely to be found at home wrapped in blankets, wasting away hours with his friend YouTube every Saturday night, rather than getting all dressed up and being pushed around by the writhing mass of bodies in a club.Fate is strange though.So, when Jisung was dragged out by his two friends to celebrate a promotion, a club was exactly where he found himself.And no one could predict that Jisung would end the night confused, with his pants - literally - around his ankles, as a flustered Minho escaped out his front door.Or: In which Jisung is utterly compelled by Minho, but there’s something about him that’s off and it might just be deleterious to Jisung's health.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Series: In which Minho is whipped, but the feeling is mutual, so Jisung is too. [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635061
Comments: 21
Kudos: 261





	1. Magnetism

The first time Jisung met Minho he was _way_ out of his element.

It wasn’t that Jisung was a homebody. It’s just that crowds often overwhelmed him. He was far more likely to be found at home wrapped in blankets, wasting away hours with his friend YouTube every Saturday night, rather than getting all dressed up and being pushed around by the writhing mass of bodies in a club.

Fate is strange though.

So, when Jisung was dragged out by his two friends to celebrate a promotion, a club was exactly where he found himself.

Felix had insisted on dressing him up and he felt like a fraud, yet very proud, of the look he was sporting. The blue hair had been his spur of the moment decision last week, but the thick eyeliner, grey contacts, chunky silver jewellery and heavily leather themed clothing had been his day-younger friend’s work.

Even despite the mindless chatter and heavy scent of alcohol and sweat assaulting his senses, he felt good.

And he knew he looked _damn_ _good_.

Especially when a few drinks in, he made eye contact with possibly the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. The way their eyes lingered over each other’s form, even across the bar, was sign enough of mutual interest.

There was something about the man that was drawing Jisung in, captivating him until his mind was registering nothing except for the lean form sitting by the bar.

Light button-up under a dark blazer, black hair the most artfully messy he had ever seen, and straight, angular, and perfect nose. Jisung had had a bit to drink at that point and might have been biased though because if asked he would say the man’s whole face was perfect.

But drunk Jisung was also cocky – and maybe too overconfident –, so he quickly swallowed his nerves and showed his intent by making the first move. It was easy to make his way across the dancefloor when dark and fascinating eyes held his every step of the way. Everything else was dulled to his senses, no more loud music and raucous chatter, no more lingering scent of perspiration and alcohol, no more faces crowding in his vision. Everything became a meaningless blur except for the one thing that had caught his desire, and if the eye contact was anything to go by, Jisung was sure the other man could feel the connection too, drawing them together by some unknown force.

“Hey,” He finally sidled up to the stranger, leaning against the bar in a way he hoped looked casual,

The stranger raised an eyebrow, looking Jisung up and down again now he was closer, he set down the drink he’d been sipping. The man’s voice was light yet uneven, raising the hair on the back of Jisung’s neck with the slight rasp to it, “Hey yourself.”

Jisung watched the way the sparkly earring dangling in the man’s left ear brushed against his neck as he tilted his head, the movement also drawing his eyes to the pale skin there and Jisung felt his flush at the impure thoughts that immediately flooded his head, he swallowed over the newfound lump in his throat, “Having fun tonight?”

The stranger pursed his lips, “Could be better,”

“Oh yeah?” Jisung moved closer so he could hear better, imposing on the man’s personal space just enough to get his attraction across, and revelling in the fact the man didn’t pull back, “How so?”

The man stood up then, removing more of the space between them, and as he spoke, Jisung realised begrudgingly he was a couple of centimetres shorter, “This place is boring. I want to get out of here,” He leaned over so his lips were at Jisung’s ear, the message behind his words unmistakeable, “But the night is young, so it would be a shame if I went home alone tonight.”

When he drew back, Jisung’s eyes immediately locked onto the slight smirk pulling up the corner of the man’s lips and he couldn’t help the way he wetted his own lips in anticipation. He had to agree, “That would be a shame wouldn’t it.”

“Especially seeing as my housemate has his girlfriend over and I don’t want to go back there and third wheel them again.” The man pouted then, blinking his eyes playfully with both a dangerous and pleading edge, “Even a hotel would be better than that.”

Jisung let his own smirk out, “I reckon I could help you with that,”

“Oh yeah?” Minho mirrored him from earlier, “How so?”

“Come home with me.” The words rushed out of Jisung so suddenly and almost breathless with the intensity that he surprised even himself.

But the man just gave him a satisfied smile – like a cat who had caught the canary. Reaching up to cup Jisung’s cheek, he brushed a thumb across his bottom lip, “I’d like that.”

Then Jisung was stumbling over his own feet, a strong hand clasped in his and dragging him out the club door.

By the time Jisung had made it through his apartment door, his new acquaintance in tow, the alcohol in his system had mostly worn off, but that allure drawing him to the other man was just as strong. The magnetism had his heart pounding with anticipation the whole way home and although they barely shared more than ten words on the way back, he felt a connection with the man that had his eyes glazing and knees buckling with such strong need.

The second Jisung closed the door behind them, eager hands were on him, pushing him against the wall and capturing his lips. A warm body pressed flush against his and the sudden onslaught of touch and taste and smell of the stranger disorientated his senses.

After a long moment of getting each other riled up in the entryway, the man pulled back. Jisung could see his pupils were dilated, his lips a lovely bitten red and there was a deep, burning hunger in his eyes. “Bedroom?” He asked, slipping off his shoes and tossing his blazer across the back of the couch as he made his way into Jisung’s apartment.

Jisung snapped his eyes away from where they were appreciating how the man’s shoulders strained the fabric of his dress shirt, “This way.” He hated how breathless he sounded, but the stranger just had that effect on him. Jisung’s fascination was clouding all rational thought. He certainly couldn’t have ever imagined him being the sort of person to bring someone home like this, the intention of what exactly was about to happen between them as clear as day. Jisung had never been one to jump so quickly into sex.

He led the way to his bedroom but didn’t have time to be embarrassed about the state he had left it in when a pair of arms were wrapping back around his waist, spinning him around with hands cupping the small of his back and lips devouring his neck with a newfound passion that made his legs tremble.

A pleased sigh left his lips at the feeling of a hot mouth sucking on the sensitive skin at the base of his neck, and his fingers found their way into the man’s dark hair and Jisung let out a disbelieving chuckle at his current predicament, “I don’t even know your name,”

The man simply hummed, biting a little harsher at the spot he’d been abusing, “Does it matter?” He questioned, the words burning against Jisung’s collarbone.

“Well, yeah. I wanna know what I should call you.”

The man drew back and looked at him as if debating the request, finally quirking up a lip and replying, “Minho.”

 _Minho_.

Jisung smiled, the name just doubling the attraction already between them. How this breath-taking man wanted to come home with him he wasn’t sure, and if he said he wasn’t already completely mesmerised by Minho that would be a lie.

He didn’t get a chance to say anything else before Minho’s lips were on his again, and this time he felt hands pushing the leather jacket off his shoulders, Minho’s fingers stopping momentarily to grab in interest at his biceps before they continued their path down Jisung’s body.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” Jisung mouthed into the kiss.

“I know.” Minho pulled away, his fingers making quick work of Jisung’s belt, he locked eyes with the shorter man, “Take off your shirt.”

Jisung didn’t hesitate, grabbing the hem and whipping the shirt over his head in seconds, it ruffled his hair and he shook his head to get the shaggy blue strands out of his eyes. Minho looked over him appreciatively and Jisung was proud when he didn’t shrink under that predatory stare, standing a bit straighter and puffing out his chest.

Jisung raised his eyebrows suggestively and Minho let out a low chuckle at the showboating, “You’re such a fucking tease,”

Jisung smiled, confidence slipping into his tone, his hands reaching up to cup Minho’s face, “You say that as if you don’t like it? I assure you I know how to please just as much,”

Minho laughed, it was a high and unexpected sound, “Cocky much?”

Jisung pointedly looked down and raised an eyebrow again, “And I bet you just can’t wait to see how much,”

Minho shook his head in exasperation, but his fingers moved to his own shirt anyway, ready more than ever to continue. He was a lot more elegant as he unbuttoned his shirt slowly, the material falling off his shoulders and gradually exposing lightly tanned skin and jutting collarbones.

“You are so fucking beautiful.”

Minho just grinned at the compliment and once the clothing hit the ground, he stepped back into Jisung’s space and returned his mouth to the growing pink mark on his neck.

Fingers curling in the short hairs at Minho’s nape, Jisung finally gained enough sense to ask, “Aren’t you even going to ask my name?”

Minho huffed, his hands tightening impatiently where they were holding Jisung’s waist, “Not important right now.”

Jisung snorted and drummed his fingers thoughtfully against Minho, “It’s Jisung.” He declared anyway, between the soft sounds escaping him at the delicate way Minho’s mouth was marking up his skin.

“Sure.” Minho hummed, undoing the zipper to Jisung’s jeans, and pushing the material off his slim hips, helping shove the tight material down until it was pooled around his ankles. Then he brought their bodies flush together again, one less layer between the arousal burning between their legs.

Jisung blushed at Minho’s noncommittal comments and brash actions, squirming a little under the sudden contact between them, “Sorry, I don’t really do this often, or at all really. I just thought . . .”

Minho glanced up at him through his messy fringe, eyelashes leaving long shadows across his cheeks, “You talk a lot. Most people just stay quiet and let me do this without so much chatter.”

Jisung pouted, “But how else am I going to get to know you?”

Minho halted his wandering hands, his face now turned to the shorter male’s, he cocked his head in consideration, confusion clear in his voice, “Get to know me?”

Jisung blanched, the realisation hit him, and his voice came out quiet, “Unless, this is supposed to be a onetime thing. . . ?”

For the first time that night, Minho glanced around the room. He took in the unkempt bed, the shelf full of figurines, the cartoon posters on the walls and littering of clothes on the floor. The corner desk had every surface coated with paper and pens and half-finished scribbles, a drawing tablet beside it all in front of two monitors. Then he saw the picture frames, one of the boy in front of him with an older couple – his parents most likely – smiling brightly with a graduation cap on his head, and another with him holding a comic and shaking a business man’s hand, the last one with faces Minho also recognised from the club tonight, three boys proudly throwing up peace signs. Across the room, he saw a tank, the faint red light illuminating some sort of reptile, stuck to the glass was a printout of a cute drawing of said reptile with the words, _Jub Jub_ , across it. The room, in fact, the whole apartment, felt loved and lived in.

A sinking feeling started to settle in his stomach.

Minho looked back to the boy in front of him, his blue hair and smudged eyeliner suddenly looked far less imposing. He looked _soft_ , with his wide eyes and a nervous gummy smile, an anxious flush on his cheeks.

Minho retracted his hands as if he’d been burnt by the boy and stepped back quickly, “You’re different.”

Jisung’s face dropped, voice soft as he offered, “It can be a onetime thing if you want, sorry, I just assumed . . .”

Minho shook his head, worry flashing in his eyes, “It’s not that. You’re just . . . not who I thought you were.”

“Was it the figurines? I swear I’m not an otaku.” Jisung’s ears grew red, chuckling nervously, “I draw comics for a living.”

“I’m sorry,” Minho looked ashamed, picking up his shirt and quickly tugging it back up his arms, “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Wait, let’s just talk about this!” Jisung yelped as he went to chase after Minho who was already bolting for the door but stumbled as he got caught on the pants at his feet.

“I am sorry, Jisung.” Minho looked back one last time, regret in his eyes and blazer in hand, “Just . . . Get a good long sleep and you’ll feel better, okay?”

Then Jisung was left confused with his pants – literally – around his ankles as a flustered Minho escaped out the front door.

Half-naked and half-mast, he looked down at his boxers, at his poor wilting dick within, and sighed. Shuffling back into his bedroom, he tossed his hands up into his hair and groaned in frustration, reprimanding himself as he threw himself face-first onto his bed.

. . .

The second time Jisung met Minho, he did a double-take in the streets, barely recognising the other man.

He was on his way back from the studio, it’d been a long night pouring over images for the final draft of his latest work, but he felt accomplished with the work he’d put in. He just wished the company wasn’t in the heart of the city. He hated making his way back to the outskirts where his apartment sat, especially on a Friday night when the streets were filled with crowds of noisy and drunk party-goers.

Tonight, was no different. He pulled his beanie lower on his head, wishing he’d brought a hoodie despite the summer heat as he crossed his bare arms, slipping between the people stumbling up the sidewalk. This street was well known for its less than respectful clubs and always made him especially uneasy.

He’d nearly reached the end of the block, ready to turn the corner to a less crowded area, when his eyes drifted over a man walking by himself. The man was in tight leather pants and a lowcut, long-sleeved navy shirt. Around his neck was a swatch of matching navy material forming a choker. He was conventionally attractive with high cheekbones and a strong nose. It was when Jisung saw his dark, tempting eyes, barely hidden under a messy fringe of black hair, that recognition dawned in Jisung’s mind and he was immediately drawn towards the man again.

“M-Minho?” He called out quietly, surprise evident in his voice.

The man seemed just as surprised at the voice calling his name, his eyes brightened and darted across to lock with Jisung’s. Recognition flashed across his face too and Jisung saw his name mouthed silently on Minho’s lips before his eyes darkened again and an unfamiliar expression settled on his face

It had only been a few weeks since they’d last seen each other, but it was apparent why Jisung barely recognised him. Minho was still attractive, devastatingly so as the navy of his shirt contrasted beautifully with the exposed skin over his collarbones, but he was missing that same fire in his eyes that effortlessly drew Jisung in last time.

Minho looked . . . _sick?_

His skin was too pale. His eyes too empty. His movement too sluggish.

There was no denying the fact that Jisung was still enticed closer, feet carrying him quickly to Minho’s side, in equal parts curiosity and that same magnetism from last.

“Are you okay?” Jisung asked once he was a meter away, his gaze running up and down Minho’s body with concern. The man looked almost unsteady on his feet, his eyes were following Jisung with deep fascination, but the glazed look in them led Jisung to believe the man’s consciousness wasn’t entirely there.

After a moment of Minho not responding to his question, Jisung started searching himself for a reason as to why he’d called out to the other man. Minho had made it quite clear the last time they’d met that he didn’t want anything to do with him. They’d barely shared more than a hundred words, yet Jisung couldn’t resist the way Minho charmed him, with his eyes and body, his smell and his voice, any piece of him that Jisung could get.

“Do you need me to help you get home?”

Minho just blinked slowly, eyes still locked on Jisung’s face, whatever delirium was clouding his mind was making it impossible for him to focus. Jisung could see a battle going on behind his eyes, over what he wasn’t sure, but Minho’s expression kept switching between concern and . . . _hunger_?

Jisung took a deep breath, stepping closer to the man, a tentative hand reaching out for Minho’s shoulder.

In a blink, there was a squeal of surprise and Jisung’s back was hitting the wall of the building beside them. He could feel the heat coming off Minho’s body, the body that was pressed to his, pushing him against the brickwork.

His wide startled eyes glanced up at Minho, the taller man was now leaning over him, making him feel a lot smaller than he already was. Whatever battle going on in Minho’s mind was over, and he was now watching Jisung with nothing but a craving gaze.

Jisung felt a blush rush up his cheeks.

“You have so much energy in you,” Minho’s voice was low, seductive, and his eyes were so dark they were practically black as they took in Jisung, flitting about his face and flickering down his body, “Makes me so hungry.”

From the desire in Minho’s stare, he didn’t think the man was referring to an appetite for food.

Jisung visibly gulped, feeling self-conscious in the lowcut tank-top that was showing off far too much skin of his midriff. Minho’s hands were already resting against the bare skin at his shoulders, causing goose-bumps to rise on his skin.

“M-Minho,” Jisung stuttered, trying to distance himself as much as possible while trapped between the man and the wall, his eyes looking anywhere besides the face so close to his,

“Don’t you want this, Jisung?” Minho asked, with more life in his tone and eyes than had been there the rest of the night,

“I-I . . .” Jisung fumbled over his words. It was hard to form a sentence with Minho’s overbearing presence making his heart race, and when Minho leant down to place a delicate kiss on the pulse at Jisung’s neck, the task became impossible.

“Do you not want me?”

How could he say no? It wasn’t as if he hadn’t thought about Minho since their last meeting, and certainly more than once in the shower.

But despite what people often assumed, Jisung was smart enough to know something wasn’t right. Had Minho been drugged?

Jisung pushed at Minho’s shoulders so he could look at his face again, voice serious, “Minho, you’re not thinking straight.”

Minho let out a whine, uncharacteristically childish, before his voice dropped low again, his eyes narrowing in on Jisung’s lips, “How can I ever think straight with you around?”

And maybe Jisung’s resolved crumbled just a little, just enough for Minho to break through and capture his lips.

Jisung shivered at the way their mouths slotted together so perfectly, the taste of Minho bringing back a nostalgia that shouldn’t have been possible from their little interaction, but nevertheless he was hopelessly submitting to the tongue prodding at his. His hands tightened into fists, gripping the light material of Minho’s shirt, his head tilting back instinctively to let Minho claim more, anything he could reach. Then Minho pushed forward again, and his hips colliding with Jisung’s was the shock the shorter man needed to break free from the enchanting lust that Minho had brought over him. He disconnected their lips by throwing his head to the side.

“T-there’s people around,” Jisung complained, trying, and failing to push at Minho’s chest,

Minho’s nose was still pressed to Jisung’s neck, his hands gripping at the Jisung’s waist, pleasant hums spilling from him as he rutted into the shorter male.

“Minho, stop!”

In less than a second, Minho jolted, stumbling backwards with panicked eyes. “S-sorry.” 

Jisung looked at him with worried eyes, panting slightly as his body shook with adrenaline and a dash of arousal, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Minho said flatly, unconvincingly,

“Minho, I don’t think you should be alone right now. You’re clearly not okay.”

“I’ll be fine,” Minho reiterated, straightening out his clothes. At least he had more colour in his face now, even if he still looked unsteady on his feet. “I’m sorry. What I just did was unacceptable. I shouldn’t have stopped you.”

“Let me help-”

“No,” Minho cut him off, his voice harsh. He looked down the street, eyes on the various clubs, “I have to go. You should go home and get a good night’s rest. Don’t . . .” Minho looked back at him with regret, guilt and longing all swirling behind his eyes, “Don’t look out for me.”

Then Minho staggered off with determination in his uneven steps, and Jisung could only watch with a mix of confusion and frustration at his retreating figure. He tried to brush off the outrage at being so carelessly tossed aside by Minho – _again_ – but he watched him long enough to be affronted as Minho disappeared into the seediest club on the block.

“Idiot,” Jisung huffed, not sure whether he was speaking to himself or for Minho, “What are you getting yourself into?!”

. . .

The third time Jisung met Minho, it was so unlike the first two meetings.

He was sitting outside his favourite little café, sketchbook in hand while he doodled nonsense from the environment around him. He was waiting for Felix to come back after placing their orders. It was routine for the two of them to catch up for late lunch whenever they could, both known for being late risers.

It was peaceful. Predictable. The friendly banter as they ate familiar and calming.

Then, as he polished off the last bite of food, Jisung caught the silhouette of a man in his peripheral vision and he instinctively froze, his cheeks comically wide with food as he stared. The man was in light beige dress pants and a large fluffy sweater, round and thin-rimmed glasses sat upon the strong bridge of his nose. Even from a distance, outfit entirely unexpected from what he’d been used to from the man, he was so unmistakably _Minho_ that Jisung’s heart stuttered. It had barely been a week since they’d last crossed paths on the street and he was still very confused about what exactly had happened between them.

As if he could feel Jisung’s eyes on him, Minho’s head snapped exactly to where he was sitting. Alarm flooded his face, but it was quickly replaced by shame. His steps halted and Jisung was sure he was about to turn away, but he took Jisung by surprise when he continued forward towards the café.

“Jisung?” Felix waved a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his reverie,

“Sorry,” Jisung turned back to his friend, “It’s just-” His eyes drifted to the left again, watching Minho steadily approach, “Minho is here.”

“Minho?” The freckled boy’s brow furrowed in momentary confusion, turning in his seat with no subtlety to see who Jisung was referring to. He caught sight of the approaching man as he reached the café entrance, and his mind suddenly clicked onto the familiar name, “ _The Minho_?!” Felix’s voice was nowhere near quiet and Jisung quickly reached over and thumped him on top of the head.

Minho hesitated at the doorway, looking between the two boys at the outside table and their empty plates before he gave Jisung a small, shy smile and quickly turned into the quaint building. Jisung’s eyes followed him through the glass before Felix’s laughter brought him back to reality.

“What the fuck was that?!” He growled at his friend, “He definitely heard you!”

“I’m sorry,” Felix at least sounded a bit apologetic between his snorts, “I just didn’t think he was real, and certainly not _that_ attractive.”

Jisung kicked at him under the table, “You thought I was lying?”

Felix grabbed for his shin, hissing as he shrugged, “Well you’re not exactly the most social person, and you do have a habit of embellishing your stories,”

Jisung harrumphed, crossing his arms at the unfortunately truthful words.

“Do you think he’s going to come over?” Felix asked as he glanced inside, trying to catch sight of the man,

“I don’t know,” Jisung admitted, “He’s made it pretty clear on two occasions now that he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Felix nodded solemnly, then gave Jisung a pointed look, “He also made it clear on those two occasions that he’d like to fuck you too.”

Jisung choked on air, spluttering as he tried to respond to his friend.

Felix threw his hands up in a placating gesture, “I’m just saying, if he did come over, would you want to talk to him?”

Jisung debated it for a moment, “Maybe. He just has me all sorts of confused and I’d just like to get a straight answer out of him.”

“Then I say go for it. Just be careful. I don’t really know what to make of what you’ve told me about him,”

Jisung sighed heavily, “Neither do I.”

Before they could discuss further, Minho was stepping out of the café with a large iced coffee in one hand and a cardboard box in the other. He took a deep breath then walked towards the table seating Jisung and Felix, both unconsciously straightening upon his approach.

Once Minho reached the table, he gave a polite smile and nod to Felix, before focusing his attention on Jisung.

“Hey, Jisung. I ah-” He started nervously, side-eyeing Felix, “I just wanted to apologise again for my actions the other night. I wasn’t really feeling myself and- ah- acted inappropriately.” He shoved the little box in front of Jisung, “Please take this as another apology.”

A flustered Jisung accepted the box, looking inside to see a delicious-looking slice of cheesecake. “T-thanks, you really didn’t need to though.”

Minho shook his head, “I felt horrible for what I did to you, so please accept it.”

“Okay.” Jisung relinquished, cheeks a rosy pink. A giggle opposite him reminded him they weren’t alone, “Oh, um, this is my friend, Felix,” Jisung gestured across the table.

“Pleasure to meet you, Felix.” Minho turned and gave him a proper bow, which Felix returned in kind, “I’m Minho,” He rubbed his neck nervously, “Although I think you already knew that.”

“Jisung may have mentioned a thing or two,” Felix said vaguely, a knowing smirk on his face,

Minho let out an airy, nervous chuckle at that,

The awkward silence that then fell over the table was palpable. Jisung stealing glances at Minho and Minho stealing glances at Jisung, Felix stuck glancing between the two in amusement.

The freckled boy took the hint, letting out an obnoxious cough that drew both sets of eyes to him, “Anyway,” He drawled, “I think it’s time for me to go. You know, so much work to do.”

Felix looked past Minho to see Jisung with betrayal clear on his face. _Don’t leave me alone with him_ , he mouthed, but it was too late, Felix was already standing up.

“Again, it was nice to meet you,” He bowed politely to Minho,

“Likewise,” The other bowed back.

Then Felix strolled past Minho, and once his back was to him, he gave Jisung a blinding mischievous smile and mouthed, _good luck_ , before he headed down the street.

Looking back towards Minho, Jisung realised the man’s eyes were already on him, but quickly flicked away once spotted. Jisung felt himself flush even harder under the small stare. It was becoming a bad habit.

“Thanks, again, for the cake.” Jisung pointed to the box awkwardly,

“No problem, I hope you like cheesecake,” Minho said, voice small, no longer able to meet Jisung’s eyes,

“It’s actually my favourite,” Jisung smiled brightly, nervously ruffling his hair,

“That’s . . . good.”

 _God_. Jisung thought he was going to suffocate in the awkward atmosphere. But he didn’t have it in him to leave just yet. With Minho pointedly avoiding his stare, he could finally appreciate the man in front of him again. He looked soft, for once. The past two times they’d met, Minho carried a sensual, dominating sort of aura that made Jisung flustered for entirely different reasons than he felt today. Today, the man looked normal. Shy even.

“Did you want to sit down?” Jisung asked, impressed with how stable his voice was, confidence returning with the realisation that for once Minho didn’t seem to have the upper hand,

“I- ah-” Minho finally glanced up, the round glasses making his eyes glimmer delicately, “Sure.” He sat in the seat Felix had just vacated, bringing his coffee to his lips, sipping lightly.

“You’re looking good,” Jisung admitted, surprising himself with the compliment, the pink dusting Minho’s cheeks suggested the comment surprised him too, “Not that you don’t always look good.” He quickly corrected, “But, um, you definitely didn’t look too crash hot the other night. Are you feeling better?”

Minho’s smile vanished at the mention of the other night, but he responded anyway, “I’m fine.” At least this time it sounded true, “I’m sorry for worrying you the other night. But I’m much better now. Just needed to regain some energy.”

Jisung nodded, even though he wanted a better explanation, he was sincere when he added, “I’m glad to hear that.”

Minho finally looked up from his coffee and gave Jisung a genuine smile, and like everything radiating from the man right then, it was so unbelievably soft the Jisung’s heart jumped in his chest. He was like an entirely different person during the day, and Jisung was disturbed when he came to the realisation that he liked this Minho just as much, if not more than the Minho of the night.

Even if he had no idea what was going on between them in this mess of a relationship that they were trying to figure out, he did genuinely wish well for Minho, even if the man had shut him down.

Twice.

_Wait._

Was it wrong for him to hold such fondness for a man that had rejected him twice?

_Ah shit._

“Are you working on something?”

Minho’s soft voice startled him out of his internal panic, and he looked to see the man was pointing at Jisung’s sketchbook sitting on the edge of the table. “Oh, um, I just take this with me wherever I go. Never know when the inspiration will hit. The world is full of reference material.”

“Can I look at it?”

Jisung looked up to see Minho meeting his eyes, and rather than a look of guilt and longing he instead held a spark of curiosity. “Yeah, go for it.” Han passed over the book, he had stopped being embarrassed about his art a long time ago, his pride in his work too powerful.

He watched with interested eyes as Minho flicked through his sketches, appreciating Minho’s long eyelashes, framed beautifully by the delicate glasses on his nose. Jisung couldn’t get over how everything about Minho just screamed _soft_. His gentle fingers as he turned a page, the way he blinked cutely and the little freckle on the tip of his nose. Then Minho’s face absolutely lit up as he turned to a rough sketch of a stray cat Jisung had seen the other day, the kind smile made Jisung’s heart swell again and he could feel himself falling down a dangerous hole.

“These are beautiful,” Minho commented, eyes still on the pages, “You’re very talented.”

“Thank you,”

“I love cats,” Minho added, holding up the page that had made him smile and Jisung couldn’t help the way he smiled brightly in return.

“Do you have any?”

“Three actually,” Minho began and went on to explain about the animals he obviously held enormous affection for.

Now that the awkward atmosphere had been broken, Jisung found the conversation started to flow easily between them, even companionable banter being tossed around. Great right? Except it didn’t help the confusion weighing on Jisung’s mind.

In their time together, Jisung had realised he loved the high crescendo of Minho’s laugh and the unashamed way he shared his mind – even if it was a little odd. He loved the way Minho was obviously a compassionate person, working at an animal shelter where he had adopted his three cats. He loved that Minho listened with his entire being, so intently that Jisung almost wanted to shrink under the intensity of his stare. He loved that nothing felt forced between them as they talked freely, with just as much familiarity as he had with Felix.

Sometime during the sharing of the cheesecake – although Jisung ate the bulk of the slice due to Minho’s insistence -, Jisung realised they had been drawn together again. They were leaning as far over the table as they could from their respective sides, minimising the distance between them as much as possible with an inanimate object blocking the path between them.

This close he could appreciate the little spot on Minho’s nose better, the warm brown of his eyes, and the way his front teeth were just a little too prominent as he smiled effortlessly. He was breath-taking all over again, and as if on the same wavelength, Minho seemed to realise their proximity as well, taking in a sharp intake of breath as his eyes widened. Guilt once again danced across his face and Jisung’s chest tightened at the obvious withdrawal when Minho jolted back as far as his seat would allow.

Minho had once again made his hesitance known.

And Jisung was once again hit with the pain and confusion of rejection.

Although the feeling made his gut twist even more than usual because over the past hour, he had let himself dream a little, wish a little, and imagine a little that Minho might just have liked him back.

_Wait._

_Liked him back?_

As in, Jisung liked him first.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

Upon that sudden realisation, Jisung stiffened. He immediately began kicking himself. It was obvious Minho didn’t like him _that way_. But that did nothing to stop the fondness growing in his heart, and Jisung was woefully unable to do anything about the fact that the intrigue, curiosity, and blatant attraction he had towards Minho had turned into full-blown affection. He liked Minho.

 _Fuck. He really liked Minho_.

“I should probably let you go,” Minho finally said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them,

“Yeah,” Jisung nodded, although his mind still hadn’t quite caught up yet.

“It was nice getting to catch up with you, I’m sorry again.”

Jisung quickly shook his head, voice serious, “Don’t worry about it, it’s all forgiven.”

“Okay. Thanks then.” Minho nodded shyly, standing from the table, “Well, see you, I guess.”

Jisung’s body tensed, preparing to do something. Probably something stupid. He just couldn’t let Minho go again. They may have not had the best track record between them, but Jisung was sure there was no denying they had fun today, so he knew if he didn’t ask, he’d regret it forever.

“Wait!” He said a bit too loudly as Minho went to step away, “Can I at least get your number?”

Minho looked at him with begging eyes, imploring Jisung to back down as he spoke with a wistful tone, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jisung.” He gave one last tight-lipped smile before turning to start down the street.

“But-” Jisung shot his hand out, catching Minho’s hand awkwardly. Everywhere their bare skin touched Jisung felt a thrum run through him, it was addictive and familiar. It was that same excitement that tingled along his nerves every time they had kissed. He was momentarily alarmed at the force of the connection and couldn’t finish the speech he had planned.

Minho recovered quicker, retracting his hand from Jisung’s hold and taking a step back, “What?”

“Why? Why is it not a good idea?”

Minho took his time answering, mulling over all the ways he could explain, finally, he settled on, “Because I am not a good person. I will end up hurting you.”

That just confused Jisung more, but he was stubborn, everyone always told him he never knew when to give up. Standing up to get them on level ground, with brows furrowed, he said, “How can you be so sure? The fact that you’re worried about hurting me just shows me you are a good person.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then explain it to me.”

Minho deflated, voice weak, “I can’t.”

“Then you have no excuse. Give me your phone.”

“Jisung,” There was a whiny edge to his voice as he drew out the word,

“Uh, uh.” Jisung shook his head sternly, “I don’t care what you’ve done in the past. I’d like to think we could be friends. So, let’s restart, starting with you giving me your phone.”

The weirdest thing was, Minho complied, reluctantly slipping the device out of his pocket, and depositing it into Jisung’s outstretched hand. Jisung didn’t miss the way Minho was careful not to let their fingers graze.

“You don’t have to give me yours right now.” Jisung explained as he keyed in his number, “Just . . . Keep mine. If you ever decide you’re ready to explain, or if you need help, or if you just want to hang out with a friend, then shoot me a message.”

He returned the device to Minho’s outstretched palm with a self-satisfied smile on his face, the taller man still looking baffled, sporting bright red cheeks over what had just happened. Then, without another word, he put the phone back into his pocket ad walked away.

Jisung called to his retreating form, “Goodbye, Min. I hope to hear from you soon.” He saw the way Minho’s steps faltered, quickly picking up speed as Jisung chuckled to himself. He patted himself on the back for being able to get on the upper footing with Minho.

Now, he just had to hope the man would take up the offer.

. . .

The fourth time Jisung met Minho, he made a friend.

He was taken by surprise when he finished work to find a text on his phone from an unknown number, brows puzzled until he read the message. His heart rate quickened at the realisation that Minho had contacted him, and not only that, he’d asked if Jisung wanted to meet up.

Jisung wished that adrenaline didn’t shoot through his veins so quickly at the idea of meeting up with Minho, but he couldn’t deny the excitement that flooded him at the prospect. God, he was so pitiful. But he couldn’t get over that connection that drew him towards the mysterious man. It was like a drug and he couldn’t wait for his next hit.

Replying to the message quickly, Jisung found himself late that night in a quaint little dessert bar. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, but nothing compared to the dazzling aura positively dripping off Minho, his smile as saccharine as that first night at the bar, only this time Jisung could see the caution behind his eyes, trepidation replacing what once was unbridled confidence.

He was already settled in a booth in the corner of the café, standing up to bow a welcome to Jisung upon his arrival. Jisung was left with the impression that Minho could make any outfit look good, seeing the man in the most casual attire yet, just simple jeans and a hoodie, yet he still looked breath-taking. Jisung didn’t get a chance to greet him with more than a smile before Minho jumped in the explain himself for the impromptu meet up.

“I listened to what you said. I want to try it. I’d like a friend.”

Jisung baulked, “You don’t have friends?”

“Of course, I have friends,” Minho snorted, “Just, I found them mostly out of necessity and ah, predicament more than anything else.”

“And I wouldn’t be like that?”

“No, you’d be a friend of my own choosing.”

Jisung nodded, he still didn’t understand anything about this man, but he liked the word friend, “Okay then. Minho, did you wanna be my friend?”

Minho blinked twice, then laughed and flushed red at the situation, “This is kind of embarrassing, isn’t it? Who asks to be friends at our age? We’re not kids who met at the playground.”

“Hey now, you started it.” Jisung sulked, but it didn’t hide the mirth behind his words, “And here I was about to tell you what my favourite dinosaur is. It’s an Ankylosaurus. Not that you care.”

Minho took in Jisung’s folded arms and the smile teasing his pout, he couldn’t help laughing again. He had completely misread Jisung the first time they met.

It was wrong. He knew it. But he really did want to befriend that man.

At the airy giggles filling the space between them, Jisung couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of his own, his foe hurt long gone.

Once the laughs died down, Minho whispered out, “Mine’s the Brachiosaurus. And yeah, I wanna be your friend.”

Jisung smiled so brightly at the confession that his eyes crinkled, and his lips formed the most perfect heart-shape Minho had ever seen.

“Now that we’re friends, seeing as you’re the one that invited me here, does that mean you’re paying?” Jisung cocked an eyebrow and waved a menu.

“I don’t think that’s how friendship works.”

Jisung’s smirk grew, eyes challenging, “How would you know?”

Minho rolled his eyes and tch-ed at Jisung, “Fine. I’ll buy this time, but that means it’s on you next time.”

“Already planning another play-date? I’m going to have to ask dad if that’s okay.”

Minho gave him a panicked look,

“You know I’m kidding right?” Jisung laughed at the relief that washed over Minho’s face, before continuing, “It’s mum’s permission I need.”

Minho was genuinely concerned again until Jisung broke out into another round of guffaws,

“Honestly, you make it too easy. You’ve been to my apartment, dude. Did you really think I lived at home or something?”

“I don’t know,” Minho threw his hands up, “You confuse me. The first time we met I thought for sure you were some sleazy fuckboy.”

Jisung thought back to their first meeting, his outfit and how he acted, he couldn’t blame Minho for thinking that.

“Did you… want me to be one?”

“It would have made things a lot simpler if you were.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Well, I would have just slept with you and left.”

Jisung knew it was coming, but it still hurt to hear. Especially with the lack of hesitation on Minho’s part.

Minho’s head dropped, his brows furrowing as if deep in thought, “Instead, here I am. Having dessert with some boy I shouldn’t even know the name of. Some boy who shouldn’t be on my mind. Yet, for some reason, I keep getting drawn back into your stratosphere.”

“You have the same effect on me.” Jisung admitted, “We could be in a room with hundreds of other people and my eyes would be drawn to you. Even now, I feel this table is putting too much distance between us. Isn’t that weird? That I’m so hopelessly drawn to someone I’ve only met four times. You just compel me in with an unnatural force, you know?”

“I know.”

Those two words were said with such remorse and sadness that it left Jisung confused. _Minho knew_?

The waitress finally came over then to take their orders and Minho let the interruption diffuse the fire that had been building between them. The moment was getting to be too honest between them, it left Minho uneasy and he quickly changed the topic to veer Jisung’s thoughts away. Jisung noticed, obviously, but let it happen, he could tell there were a lot of things Minho wanted to keep hidden, and he couldn’t blame the man for not wanting to share with someone he barely knew.

Over the next two hours, Minho kept the topics light-hearted. It was easy small talk and Jisung found it easy to ignore the magnetic force dragging him towards Minho, even if that pull would always be in his gut. When the time came for them to part ways, Jisung felt he knew Minho a little better, that behind those dark and alluring eyes, that behind that dangerous smirk, was a gentle heart. He wasn’t sure why Minho insisted on keeping it hidden, on why he put up the cold front whenever Jisung tried to pry too far, but everyone had skeletons in their closet and Minho didn’t have to share his so soon.

Jisung could still feel his heart wanting more, his body craving whatever Minho would give, and he had to constantly shake himself from those thoughts. Minho was his friend. No more. But that didn’t stop Jisung’s eyes from drifting often to Minho’s mouth, lingering on his cupid’s bow, cheeks colouring when Minho’s tongue wet his bottom lip. He feared that the pull Minho had over him would always be there, taunting him with a man that was getting so close, yet still so far.

When Minho stuck to his word and paid the bill, they exited the café side by side, Minho holding the door open for Jisung.

“I had fun tonight,” Minho said honestly, “Would you like to do it again sometime?”

Jisung grinned playfully, hoping the want wasn’t obvious in his voice, “That’s sound an awful lot like you’re asking me on a date,”

Minho stiffened and blushed, “That’s not what I meant. I just… I like hanging out with you,”

“I know,” Jisung laughed, “I’m just playing with you. You wanted a friend, right? I’m happy being that. So, just shoot me a message when you’re free and we can hang out again, no strings.”

Minho nodded, relaxing his muscles, “Goodbye then,”

“Goodbye,” Jisung smiled back, then moved forward to hug Minho in farewell.

Jisung regretted the move the second he made it, but it was an unconscious decision, he swore. Even if his whole body had been screaming at him to touch Minho all night, he respected the other’s wishes. It was just he and his friends weren’t averse to physical affection, so something as simple as a hug during goodbyes was a common occurrence for them. But the way Minho flinched, moving aside as Jisung got closer made the shorter man quickly realise his forward movement and pull back. It was a tad too late though and his fingers brushed the bare skin along Minho’s arm.

As with last time, a spark shot through his arm at the slight contact. Jisung was left bewildered by his body’s reaction to such a small touch. The look on Minho’s face was pained as he rubbed his arm where Jisung’s fingers had grazed him, and Jisung thought he _must_ feel the same thing between them too.

“I’m sorry,” Jisung quickly blurted, wincing at the uncomfortable look on Minho’s face,

“It’s okay,” Minho gave him a weak smile, “I just don’t really like physical contact.”

Jisung nodded and let him leave without another word, but his mind couldn’t stop replaying their first two meetings through his head. Minho was more than happy to touch him then, more than happy to kiss him and was definitely more than ready to sleep with him. What was so wrong with the real Jisung that Minho couldn’t bear the thought of his hands on his skin.

Jisung sighed and made his way home, hating himself for the fact that all through the night he could feel his heart digging deeper and deeper into a Minho’s shaped hole.

. . .

The fifth time Jisung met Minho, everything was going perfectly . . . until it wasn’t.

Jisung found out Minho was surprisingly funny, they’d been texting constantly since their last café not-date and both found the dynamic between them effortless. The push and pull between them was easy through the phone, the teasing and flirting coming naturally. Jisung just hoped he wasn’t alone thinking that.

It was a couple of weeks later that Minho next invited Jisung out to dinner, and Jisung would deny how long he spent looking through his wardrobe to find an outfit, eventually enlisting Felix’s help. His younger friend seemed adamant that it was a date, that Minho was clearly interested in dating Jisung, but Jisung refuted him at every step, stating they were just friends. Felix made a point that if they were just friends, why was Jisung spritzing himself with his good cologne, his date cologne. Jisung didn’t have an excuse, so he stuck up his nose and shoved Felix out of his apartment to finish getting ready. He could hear the younger shout, “Make sure you use protection,” as he cackled down the hall.

Stopping by his mirror one last time, Jisung thought he looked good, but not too much like he was trying to look good because he wasn’t, it wasn’t a date. They were just friends. With a sigh, he grabbed his keys and went to meet Minho.

Jisung didn’t even have to look the second he entered the restaurant, his feet already carrying him towards Minho the second he entered the room. Minho looked good. A part of Jisung hoped Minho had gone through the same effort he had to look nice for the night, but who was he kidding, Minho always looked naturally that good.

It was so easy for them to slip into the same teasing banter they had over the phone and Jisung had to constantly remind himself that Minho’s flirting was nothing but that, banter. It just felt like more than a meal between friends to Jisung, especially with that never-ending attraction that made everything besides the charcoal of Minho’s hair and the slight rasp to his voice irrelevant. The smirk on his lips and enticing glint to his eye had Jisung believing that maybe Felix was right, maybe Minho did want something more. It would be so easy, effortless from them to change the label of the dynamic between them. They already knew they had a chemistry between them that went beyond words, the way Jisung’s skin flushed at Minho’s more salacious jokes a testament to that. He hadn’t yet forgotten the taste on Minho’s tongue on his.

Jisung felt his confidence growing throughout the meal, and by the time the plates were cleared and they were biding their time, extending out the conversations so they wouldn’t yet have to part ways, he felt ready to ask Minho if this was still all he wanted from their relationship.

Before Jisung could utter his first word, a new voice broke the haze that had kept them focused so solely on each other for the past couple of hours. Minho’s eyes snapped up first, looking at the new figure that had appeared beside their table. Jisung hadn’t yet moved his gaze from Minho’s face, so he saw when his eyes flashed between confusion, surprise and then panic.

Finally, Jisung moved from watching Minho’s face to look at the tall man who had just arrived. Jisung stirred uneasily at the hard glare piercing him. The man was handsome, unbelievably so, and Jisung was surprised to find his eyes were as drawn to this stranger as they were to Minho. He had ebony hair, long enough at the back to be pinned up in a small ponytail. His features were delicate, perfect and round but still striking, a single mole sitting pretty under one of his eyes. Under his tight outfit, Jisung could tell his body was as nice as Minho’s. He was beautiful, but the hard look on his face as he considered Jisung had the man still sitting shrinking under that stare.

“Hyunjin,” Jisung could hear Minho swallow harshly before speaking, “What are you doing here?”

Hyunjin, the stranger, ignored the question as he swung to now glare at Minho, “Is this the guy you starved yourself over?”

Minho didn’t respond, his eyes flicking down to Jisung with guilt lacing his features. Jisung saw Hyunjin look his way again from the corner of his eye, he didn’t like the way Hyunjin was looking down on him, but he couldn’t help but feel insignificant under those eyes.

“What are you still doing with him?” Hyunjin’s voice sounded incredulous, but there was a touch of anger lacing his words,

“It’s not what you think,” Minho finally spoke up,

“Really? Because to me, it looks like you’re going to get yourself hurt again,”

“He’s just a friend,” Minho defended quietly, and Jisung couldn’t help but think it sounded like a lie,

“There’s no such thing as just a friend,” Hyunjin’s words were biting, “You know this. If you keep this going, you’ll end up hurting him and I’m not going to pick up after you-”

“Excuse me,” Minho suddenly stood up, cutting Hyunjin off and grabbing his arm to pull him from the table, “We’ll be right back,” He explained to Jisung,

Jisung watched, frozen in his chair as the two had a heated discussion across the room. He couldn’t tell a single thing they were saying, but Hyunjin looked angry and Minho looked defeated. After a few minutes, Hyunjin’s features softened and he placed a steadying hand on Minho’s shoulder, Jisung watched Minho’s face fall again and he nodded resolutely. Jisung didn’t like the miserable look on Minho’s face as he walked back over to the table, steps small. With one last daring look at Hyunjin, Jisung saw a matching melancholy on his face as he looked towards the pair. Jisung felt his gut clench at the implications of those looks, standing up the second Minho arrived before him.

“I’m sorry,” Minho finally said, voice empty, “I shouldn’t have ever messaged you. I think it’s best if we part ways here,”

Jisung’s chest tightened, disbelief across his face, “What? What did he say to you?”

“He just reminded me of some things I’ve been forgetting around you,” Minho bit his lip, “I’m not good for you, Jisung.”

“I don’t care. You know I don’t care.”

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t stay with you,”

Jisung could feel his throat tightening, “Why?”

Minho just shook his head,

“Do you- do you not like me?”

“The problem is I like you too much.” Minho sighed and ran a hand through his hair, refusing to meet Jisung’s eyes, “You have to understand, I’m not designed for relationships.”

“But we’re just friends,” Somehow it sounded like a lie even to Jisung,

“There’s no such thing as just friends,” Minho echoed Hyunjin’s words, “Not for someone like me,”

Jisung was in shock, how could it end so quickly between them, “What can I do?”

“Nothing. Just forget about all this. Please, just forget about me.”

“You’d drop us as simple as that? You can’t tell me you haven’t felt anything between us? Or- or am I wrong, is it just me? I- I like you so much, Minho.”

Minho’s face snapped up to Jisung then, eyes dangerous and warning, “What you feel with me is a lie,”

“That’s not true,” Jisung denied,

“It is. I’ve done nothing but play with you by seeing you. Once I put space between us it’ll go away,”

“It won’t.” Jisung was adamant, “You don’t understand. Even when you’re not there I just want to be by your side,”

“It’s false, Jisung. It’s just me messing with your head. You shouldn’t want me like that,”

But he did. He’d long since past the point of just being drawn to Minho’s body. He wanted all of him, mind, body and soul. He wanted to love Minho. It would be so, so easy to.

“But I do, because I like you, Minho. I will fight for this if you won’t,”

“Don’t,”

“Are you telling me you won’t?” Jisung’s heart dropped, “That you don’t you feel this connection between us? Or am I just not enough for you?”

“Jisung,” Minho’s voice broke, quiet as he whispered the name, “I’ve never felt this way with anyone. The way I feel for you is nothing I’ve ever experienced before,”

Jisung’s heart wavered, hope taunting him,

Minho spoke so quietly Jisung strained to hear him, “So, how can I know what’s the right thing to do? I want to believe you, that what you feel for me is true, but I have never had anyone worth fighting for before,”

“And now?” Jisung spoke with a matching quiet,

“Now, I think I’m too weak to start trying. What I feel doesn’t matter anyway. It’s just not worth the risk if I get it wrong.”

Jisung swallowed around the fear constricting him, knowing that this was it, “And what is that risk?”

Minho shook his head one last time, “Nothing you need to worry about. I did love getting to know you, but you have to let me go now.”

Without another word, Minho pulled a bunch of notes from his wallet, enough to cover their dinner, then he turned away with an emotionless look on his face before Jisung could get past the lump that had stolen his voice. He could feel the pain bubbling away in his chest as he watched Minho leave with Hyunjin. He still had no idea who that guy was, but he hated him, with every fibre of his being. He wasn’t sure what he said to Minho, but it had ruined every bridge they’d built between them. With a mix of anger and sadness battling in his mind, he stormed out of the restaurant, dashing as quick as he could back to his apartment.

That night Jisung cried, and the whole time was spent berating himself for falling so hard and so fast for someone who had always told him he was unattainable.

. . .

The sixth time Jisung met Minho, the puzzle finally came together.

If you told him he’d find himself in that predicament four months ago, he would never have believed it. But there he was, out almost every night, spending his time in the seediest clubs he could stomach while looking for one man. With his number blocked, no address to go to and a word from his co-workers that he’d quit, Jisung had nothing better to do than dress himself up, night after night, and head into the heart of the city. All in the hope that the man he was after was still around.

It had only been a month since their last dinner, and Jisung was still hurting, still longing, still in need of some better closure. He was telling the truth when he said he’d fight for them, and in Minho’s absence, Jisung had built up to strength to do just that.

He was about to head home for the night, the clock striking three in the morning when Jisung froze in his place. He was in disbelief, unsure if the lack of sleep was getting to him, or if Minho was truly in front of him. But that twisting in his chest and the way his feet begged to carry him to the man, told him that it was really Minho.

The man was looking sickly again, just like he did upon their second meeting, only maybe even worse. Minho was always impeccably dressed and put together, even that time when he was stumbling down the street, but now, he looked messy. His hair that was always styled perfectly hang limply off his head, his skin-tight clothes creased. Even so, he was still beautiful, drawing many eyes from around the room.

Minho’s eyes were cold and calculating as he started eyeing the bodies in the room, but as always, with that same magnetism every time they were together, his eyes swiftly locked onto Jisung. They widened, almost imperceptibly, but Jisung saw it before they tightened into a scowl.

Minho didn’t hesitate to stalk over to Jisung, anger in his voice, “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” Jisung admitted, not backing down at all from Minho’s imposing aura,

“Why?”

“I told you I would. I told you I wouldn’t let whatever this is between us go so easily. I miss you.”

Minho shook his head, “You shouldn’t,”

“But I do,” Jisung rose up, levelling their eyes, “I can see it in your eyes. You miss me too. So, what are you going to do?”

Minho leant forward and Jisung stiffened as he felt Minho press himself into the crook of his neck, the taller man taking a deep breath, letting his lips graze the skin there and sending shockwaves through Jisung’s body. Finally, he pulled back and spoke up, “Nothing. I am going to do nothing,”

Jisung’s jaw dropped, “What?”

“No matter how much I want you Jisung, I can’t get close.” Minho ran a tense hand through his hair, the strands standing up messily, “Everything about you drives me crazy, your smell, your touch, your taste, but if I let myself indulge in that desire, I _will_ hurt you, Jisung. And I can’t do that. Not to you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“And I hope you never will. I told you to forget about me, now I’m saying you _need_ to stay away from. Please. It’s not safe for you.”

“Just tell me why?”

“I can’t,”

“I won’t leave you alone until you tell me why,”

“If I tell you, I’ll just make it dangerous for both of us,”

“Is it because of Hyunjin?”

Minho shook his head, “He’s just trying to help me, to keep both of us safe,”

“I don’t like him, he doesn’t feel . . . right,”

“And how do I feel?”

“What do you mean?”

“Hyunjin and I, we’re the same. If he doesn’t feel right, then I can’t feel right either,”

“I don’t understand,” Jisung knitted his brow in confusion,

“There are some things you can’t understand Jisung. There are some things that are beyond what you know in this world and it’s best if you leave them alone,”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Don’t try to understand us,”

_Us?_

_Hyunjin and I, we’re the same._

A slither of ice pierced its way into Jisung’s chest, “What- what are you?”

Minho offered no answer, only a sad smile as he turned away, leaving Jisung with more questions than when he arrived that night, but for the first time in Minho’s presence, he felt real fear. He was frozen to his place as he watched the man leave him behind.

Then Jisung was left to watch, horrified as Minho sidled up to the first man that approached him. Without missing a beat, Minho locked his arms around the guy's neck, drawing their bodies close and whispering into the man’s ear. The stranger dragged his hands up and down Minho’s body, and Minho did nothing to stop it. Instead, he welcomed it and was quick to upturn his face, locking them in a messy kiss, Jisung still watching from the side-lines with a broken heart and a slacked jaw.

When he broke the kiss, Minho looked the most alive he had been since stepping foot into the club, and Jisung recognised the hunger in his eyes, that same burning desire that was directed to him on the street a few months ago.

Jisung was still watching in disbelief as Minho lead the stranger to the back of the club, towards the private room Jisung had carefully avoided the whole night.

Jisung knew he should have left. All he was doing was hurting his heart staying there. But he was afraid. He knew that stranger Minho had accepted was not a good man, he could feel it, so he sat there and worried himself to his core. He would stay long enough to make sure Minho was safe, to make sure he wasn’t getting himself into more trouble and that was it.

It was safe to say Jisung was shocked when Minho walked out of the back rooms half an hour later. And he looked _alive_.

That was the only way Jisung could describe the energy falling off Minho in waves, making him glow, attracting every pair of eyes to him like a magnet because he was once again the very definition of beauty. The only sign of what went on down that hallway was the slight flush on Minho’s cheeks, the faint pink blemish Jisung could just make out peeking from his collar and the way his hair sat even messier than it had before. Jisung didn’t like the jealousy that twisted in his gut at the sight.

Minho looked over the crowd, a sad but content smile upon his face. Then he saw Jisung still sitting there, long having expected the man to have left, and his expression turned darker, lonely and longing.

Jisung’s face was painted with confusion. _What game was Minho playing?_

Then the stranger stumbled out behind Minho. He looked wrecked. And not in a fun way. His skin was pale, bags hung heavy under his eyes and his breathing was ragged. He looked as if he'd pass out at any second. He looked as if the life has been drained from him.

_What had happened to him in that back room?_

If that’s why he looked like, why was Minho okay?

It took two thundering heartbeats, but then recognition flashed in Jisung’s mind. Slowly, the wheels were turning in his head, forcing wisps of clues from the recess of his mind. He recalled how drained he felt the morning after he first met Minho, how getting out of bed before noon was impossible. At the time he thought it had been a mix of hangover and rejection, but instead, he now considered that lethargy deep within his bones had nothing to do with himself and everything to do with the ethereal man still watching him with worried eyes.

Minho’s voice echoed in his head, _get a good long sleep and you’ll feel better._

The pieces were still coming together, but he was sure Minho saw the realisation dawning on his face. Jisung wanted to jump up and run to question the man because he finally understood on some basic level why Minho couldn’t be with him. There was a name for it, just on the tip of his tongue that would tie it all together, the final piece that would connect the dots.

Before Jisung could take a step in his direction, Minho shook his head in a warning and mouthed the words, _not safe_ , before he turned away and walked out of the club, still carrying the eyes of every person there.

Only, he hadn’t hidden his emotions as well this time, and Jisung could see the sadness and longing ripping Minho’s heart apart.

. . .

After that night, Jisung didn’t see Minho for a long, _long_ time.

But in his absence, he found the word he was looking for. The reason why Minho would always be out of reach. The reason they were always drawn together so quickly, by a desire Jisung couldn’t understand. The reason why at certain times Jisung felt a magnetism drawing him to Minho until he was nothing but flushed with a racing heart.

He found the word that explained why Minho could never be who he wanted.

And in return, why Jisung could never be what Minho needed.

He found the truth.

The truth that Minho had been hiding from him. Keeping Jisung at a distance for his own safety.

But it didn’t stop him wishing.

Wishing that there was a way they could change things between them.

Wishing that they could reach a compromise, where they could be together without going too far, without risking his own life to be with Minho.

But he knew that was dangerous because the pull between them was unlike anything he had – _they_ had – ever felt before and he knew no matter what they tried, they would always fail.

And if they failed, Jisung would suffer and Minho would blame himself, and it was something neither of them could live with.

So, Jisung kept his distance.

He kept his distance for so long.

He kept his distance until he couldn’t anymore.

And when he was face to face with Minho again, he knew he had to try something – _anything_ – between them, because the wishing and waiting were worse on his heart than any other possible consequence.

“Jisung,” Minho drawled, not even questioning how Jisung found him again, his voice was pained, “I told you to stay away.”

“I know. I know. I understand. But please, listen to me. I know what you are.”

Minho flinched, eyes blowing wide with fear,

“I know what you are, but I don’t care,” Jisung continued, stepping forward and noting the way Minho stiffened under his approaching presence,

“I will hurt you,” Minho warned, voice unsteady,

Jisung stood his ground, defiance in his eyes, “You don’t know that. I may not understand exactly how it works but we won’t let things get that far. We’ll- We’ll keep you healthy, and we won’t go too far between us. We’ll limit the time together, I don’t know. I just need to try whatever this is between us.”

“You don’t understand,” Minho was begging, his resolve crumbling with every one of Jisung’s pleas,

“I do.” Jisung cut him off, eyes serious, “I understand the risk. I don’t care. You’re worth it. Just, let me try, please.”

“You’re an idiot. I’m not worth that.”

“You are,” Jisung took another step forward, their toes almost touching, “Please. Let me show you how much you are worth it.”

Minho shook his head, resignation in his voice as he admitted, “You know, you got me looking for a way to get free of this curse.”

“And?”

“And it’s pointless,” Minho’s face was downcast, expression disheartened, “No one has found a way out,”

“Then let me help you,” Jisung said as if it was that easy, as if it wasn't a world-changing finding, “We can find it together,”

Jisung could see Minho searching his face, eyes longing as he looked back up, “It’s too dangerous. I could never forgive myself if I hurt you,”

“I believe you. But you have a kind heart, Min. I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me,”

Minho leant closer and Jisung could feel his breath fan over his cheeks. Minho closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of the shorter man he loved so much, voice painfully honest, “I want you so much, Jisung. I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself around you,”

“It’s not just up to you though. I won’t let things go too far either. I swear.”

Jisung could see the internal battle Minho was facing, the fear and doubt and want each fighting it out.

“Just, let me be by your side, please, I miss you,” Jisung plead, eyes sparkling bright, and Minho felt the moment his resolve completely shattered.

Leaning down to Jisung, Minho moved so close their lips brushed, not really a kiss, but enough to make Jisung shiver, welcoming the sparks that shot through him. He tried to surge forward, wanting more, but Minho’s hand on his chest stopped him from advancing, the taller man moving back before he did something he would regret.

“Han Jisung,” Minho chuckled in defeat, “You have no sense of self-preservation.”

Jisung stepped forward again, feeling that burning between them, already tempting him, enticing him with thoughts and images he knew he couldn’t act on. Not yet.

“You like that about me though,”

“No,” Minho let out an exasperated sigh, “I’d like if you stayed away from me and stayed safe.”

Jisung grinned, “Well, that’s not going to happen, so guess you better make a choice.”

Minho let out a very childish whine, “This is so dumb. You clearly can’t be trusted to stop this from going too far,”

“Can too!”

“Then what’s this?” Minho gestured to where Jisung was leaning into him, his hands inching towards Minho’s bare skin,

“Whoops,” Jisung stepped back, “Buffering time? I’ve been away from you too long, I just need to get used to your pull again,”

Minho let out a deep sigh, rooted to the spot as he drank in all of Jisung’s features, “Why am I even thinking about agreeing to this?”

Jisung smirked, “I guess I must be as irresistible as you are,”

Minho shook his head, shoving Jisung back lightly, “I swear to whatever Gods there are, no matter what happens, the second we find out this is a hopeless endeavour, you will leave me. I’m serious. If I’m stuck like this, I don’t want you with me, okay?”

“Okay,” Jisung nodded, immediately stepping back to his embrace, settling his arms around Minho’s neck,

Minho scoffed, but his hands came to rest over Jisung’s hips, “We also need to discuss this,” He looked between them where Jisung was pressing his body to Minho’s chest, he could also feel Jisung’s fingers in his hair, brushing at his nape, sending shocks down his spine, “I need to lay down some ground rules to keep you safe,”

“Okay,” Jisung agreed again, but his finger’s tightened in Minho’s hair,

The elder sighed again, fighting the desire pulling at every corner of his being, “Aren’t you at all worried? Aren’t you scared of what I can do?”

Jisung shook his head, shaggy fringe landing in his doe eyes, “No, I think we’ll figure it out. I believe in us.”

Minho rolled his eyes, “And I believe you are the most careless human I have ever met.”

“You act as if that doesn’t turn you on,” Jisung said confidently, he could feel Minho shivering under his playful fingers, “As if we both don’t want you to ravish me right here and right now.”

Minho let out a choked sound, pink flushing his cheeks, “Aren’t I supposed to be the one seducing you?”

Jisung huffed out a laugh, “I hope not, because you’re the sane one here. And, if I’m being honest, I lied earlier. If you decide to seduce me, there’s no way I’d be able to say no, and with _all_ the things I want us to do together, there’s no way I’d be coming out of the other side alive.”

Minho’s hands tightened on Jisung’s waist, the only sign he was struggling to maintain his composure. Then he snorted, letting his hands run longingly up Jisung’s sides one more time before stepping back again, breaking the contact Jisung had with his skin, “You will be the death of me, human.”

Jisung just smiled brightly, fluttering his eyes innocently, “I just hope you’re not the death of me first,

“ _Incubus_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two WIPs finished in under a week?? What is this?? It’s my last hurrah to try and complete something before quarantine ends for me next week and I can finally go back to full-time hours, so if the last couple of parts seemed a bit slapdash that is why.
> 
> So, this has also been sitting around for a long time. I went to bed one night thinking I have to write a spicy incubus Minho fic. Then, somehow, the spice became sweet.
> 
> I might follow this up and make it a two-shot at some point. It’s not a high priority, but I have pre-emptively rated this M for that.
> 
> Just some notes on my incubi:
> 
> They draw energy from humans through any sort of skin on skin contact, causing lethargy in mild cases (as with Jisung after their first meeting) but when they go all the way with someone during sex, especially if that person finishes while connected to the incubi, they directly take years from that person’s life. So, it is possible for Minho to be together with Jisung short-term, and they can touch in small doses, they just can’t go through with the dirty because Minho will literally fuck Jisung to death.
> 
> Also, the incubi aren’t born but created. They arose from the vengeful souls of scorned lovers, people who were cheated on by someone they loved dearly, and who’s heart turned to stone in consequence, refusing to love again. A higher power heard their pleas for revenge and gave them the ability – the incubi curse – to get revenge on their lovers using the way their lovers scorned them. So, in theory, they could be returned to their human form if they can lose the incubi powers.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed ^-^


	2. Interim: Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was easy to let Jisung pull him in like a magnet, lowering his guard and doing something he hadn’t considered for over a century.

Despite having the pleasure of seeing Jisung almost every day, Minho could never get used to the intense thrum of want that sparked along his nerves and lit every sense alight whenever in his presence.

He knew Jisung could feel it just the same. The way they constantly gravitated towards each other spoke volumes of its effect. Longing eyes lingering on lips, hands, biceps, or any hint of bare skin. Bodies coming to drape effortlessly over each other at any given moment.

It was easy to let Jisung pull him in like a magnet, lowering his guard and doing something he hadn’t considered for over a century.

Part of him still wished it were as easy to resist that pull. But Jisung’s draw was stronger than anything he’d ever felt before, and he found himself letting Jisung risk it all, balancing on a fine line they both walked precariously.

Even now, he felt the tell-tale pull in his stomach before a strong pair of arms wrapped around his waist and a forehead settled between his shoulder blades.

“Hello to you too,” Minho said, a smile immediately filling his features as he tossed away his earphones in favour of entertaining the younger man. He poked at the hands locked over his stomach, fingers swathed in hoodie far too large for the Jisung’s slender frame. Minho’s smile grew when he realised Jisung must have slipped past the kitchen and into his bedroom to steal one of his hoodies before coming out to greet him. “Tough day?”

The nose pressing into his spine moved up and down as Jisung nodded,

“Does that mean I won’t be getting this back anytime soon?” Minho plucked at the hoodie sleeves between stirring the pot in front of him,

Jisung nodded again, voice muffled into the material of Minho’s sweater, “It’s comfy and smells good. It’s mine now.”

Minho let out an amused huff, “If it’s so good then why don’t you take it to the table and leave my spine be so I can cook in peace?” He took a step to the side to reach the herb rack, Jisung refused to let go, shuffling along behind him and still pressed to his back the whole time, making the process take twice as long,

“Can’t. You smell better. Straight from the source.” The arms around Minho’s waist tightened, but eventually, the nose moved from his back until a chin hooked over his shoulder, “But whatever you’re cooking smells really good too.”

Minho ignored the heat he could feel radiating off Jisung’s skin, now a breadth from his own. The allure of it already drawing him in and reminding him that all he had to do was turn his head, place his lips on Jisung’s cheek and then the man would be his.

It would be so easy to get him to submit.

Shaking off the intrusive thought as quickly as it came, Minho grinned as he pictured Jisung behind home standing up on his tiptoes, the only way he’d be tall enough to situate his head on Minho’s shoulder. “We’re having spaghetti. I had a premonition it’d be a carb-filled comfort food night tonight.”

“My hero,” Jisung declared, pressing the lightest kiss to Minho’s cheek before finally releasing his waist and turning to the cupboard to grab bowls instead. Minho barely registered the tingle already dissipating from his cheek where Jisung’s lips had touched his skin, welcoming the fleeting zap of energy that sizzled straight to his gut.

They worked together to dish up pasta and sauce, opting to forego dining at the table and to instead eat in front of the television. A random Netflix drama worked as background noise while Jisung idly chatted about his lousy day, carefully raising his food out of reach of the large ginger tabby that had taken place on his lap. Minho watched him with adoring eyes as Jisung babbled on about impossible deadlines, only half-listening to the words leaving the younger’s mouth as he was too immersed in watching the movement of Jisung’s lips and the way his fingers gently carded through Soonie’s fur.

Jisung froze upon feeling the weighted gaze on him, noticing Minho’s eyes as they sparkled in his direction. He kicked out at the older man with a socked foot, the cat launching from his lap at the disturbance, “Stop looking at me like that,” He mumbled, cheeks flushing,

Minho stumbled out of his daze, “Like what?”

“Like you wanna devour me,”

Minho jerked at the comment, but quickly recovered and ran his tongue over his upper lip, now pointedly raking his eyes over Jisung’s form, “But what if I wanna?”

The flush reached the tips of Jisung’s ears, he kicked out again, “Dickhead,”

Minho easily caught Jisung’s flailing legs and pinned them down on his lap, “Alright, alright. I won’t say anymore,”

Jisung snorted, “And yet, you always say I’m the problem here when you can’t go ten minutes without undressing me with your eyes,”

Minho let out an indignant huff, mumbling, “I wasn’t undressing you.”

And it was true.

Present as always was that simmering heat in his gut, that unquenchable thirst that often clouded his mind and tingled along his fingertips. That need to touch more, feel more, _take more_ of Jisung.

But there was also something else.

Something that went beyond that original curiosity that had him giving Jisung his number. He couldn’t put a name to the emotion. But it was calmer, fonder, kinder than what his instincts longed for. It softened the rough edges that begged for a taste of Jisung and made his heart race in a completely different way.

He kind of liked that feeling.

“Uh-huh,” Jisung didn’t sound like he believed him, but he let Minho go, settling into his new position with his legs draped over Minho’s lap and focused back on the television screen.

Minho refocused just the same, but every now and then his eyes flicked to the man beside him anyway, in awe of how they made it. So utterly homely as they curled up on the sofa both dressed in their comfiest sweats. He often wondered if he was living in a never-ending dream. It was the only way to explain the situation he found himself in.

By the third episode, Minho had started absentmindedly playing with the hem of Jisung’s sweatpants, tugging at the fabric while his eyes stayed glued to the screen. His fingers slipped underneath the flimsy material and started drawing pattern-less shapes onto the warm skin beneath. His hands loved how hot Jisung always felt under his touch. It was too easy for him to mindlessly attach to the bare skin, his instincts leading him to soak up just the smallest spark of energy that it went unnoticed while his eyes stayed on the television. The battle of the protagonist’s fight for love somehow more compelling than the slowly building ignition in his gut and the limbs stiffening in his hold.

“Min-”

It was only when his name fell from Jisung’s mouth, the word slipping out as a breathless whine mixed with a warning, that he registered the pleasant thrum of power soaking in through his fingertips. He snapped his hands away from Jisung’s legs, worry flooding his heart.

“Sorry,” He quickly rushed out, knowing that Jisung had no qualms about him skimming a bit of energy off the top, he actually welcomed the dead-tired sleep it brought after, but Minho just couldn’t shake the feeling that he was pressuring Jisung into it. The passive effect of his charm, drawing Jisung in and lowering his inhibitions, doused him in guilt every time Jisung acquiesced to his wants. That paired with the unintentional side effect of his extended touch – the bone-deep lethargy that he tried to avoid – was always cause for an apology, even if Jisung refused to accept it.

One look at the dark edge clouding Jisung’s eyes told him it was too little, too late.

“Min,” Jisung repeated more firmly, already ignoring Minho’s apology, and letting that magnetic field draw him in. “Can we do something tonight?”

Minho hummed, fighting the reciprocal fire of desire that shot through his veins at the needy look on Jisung’s face. He kept his calm as he regarded Jisung’s question with a level head, even if his fingers itched to graze bare skin once again, “What did you want to do?”

It had been well-defined going into this relationship that communication would make or break the tenuous balance they had to maintain. If neither could be upfront with what they wanted, then they would never be able to find that middle ground to satisfy both needs. Minho was always especially cautious, even if he fed off Jisung’s flustered yet brazen words, the man getting more and more confident expressing his wants and desires as the days went on.

Jisung squirmed around on the couch in a moment of bashfulness, cheeks deepening their flush as he admitted, “Want you to kiss me while I touch myself,”

Minho nodded tightly, biting his lips as he still regarded Jisung with a hint of doubt, “You sure that’s what you actually want? I can leave for a few minutes and give you time to cool down.” His eyes flicked down to the front of Jisung’s pants, “This is my fault, isn’t it?”

The younger was quick to shake his head, “It’s not all you,” He continued softly, “So, please don’t go.” His eyes dropped down shyly again, “I’ve been… restless all day. I was planning to get off tonight anyway, you just… helped the process along.”

Minho sucked in a breath. How could deny that delicate timbre and full rosy cheeks? It would be difficult to keep his control, he himself feeling particularly needy that night. He made a silent vow to himself to keep everything below the belt on, even if he could already feel his body responding to Jisung’s, feeding off the mutual lust.

“Okay,” Minho conceded, voice unsteady. He audibly gulped then began again stronger, “Come here then.”

Jisung looked up through his shaggy fringe, wide eager eyes locking with Minho’s hesitant ones. He manoeuvred up onto his knees and shuffled over to Minho’s side of the couch, an unspoken question on his tongue that Minho nodded to, letting Jisung throw a leg over his lap and straddle him. Tender hands came to settle lightly on the younger’s waist, over the thick hoodie still in place. Jisung’s own fingers hesitated just above Minho’s shoulders, “Can I?”

“Go ahead.”

There was no time wasted in him relaxing into the elder man’s hold, his hips sliding forward and pressing against Minho with just the right amount of pressure. His hands cupped Minho’s neck, fingers tickling at the wispy hairs along his nape, and he let out a pleased sigh as their lips finally slotted together.

Minho released his own satisfied hum, the immediate rush through his blood from Jisung’s touch drowning away any conflict weighing on his mind.

It was easy. Effortless. Getting so lost in each other and that burning desire.

Jisung wasn’t hesitant with his want, licking his way into Minho’s mouth in an instant. His hands shifted higher, pulling on dark strands to draw a hiss from Minho, and to angle his head into a more accessible position, all while rolling his body forward in a senseless rhythm.

Jisung was too eager to take whatever Minho was willing to give.

And giving he was.

Responding to Jisung’s fervour with a matching drive of his own. Jisung was now all but whimpering into Minho’s mouth, the timid sounds swallowed by the elder’s tongue as he took over to help direct the writhing body in his lap. Minho’s hands had tightened on Jisung’s lithe waist, guiding the frenzied rolling of the younger’s hips. He had disoriented himself too quickly, too drunk off Minho’s aura to realise that he was slipping.

That they both were slipping.

As Minho was just as intoxicated by the feeling of Jisung. He had Jisung on his tongue, in his hands and swirling maddeningly in every one of his senses.

But it wasn’t enough.

_More. More. More._

_Hungry. So hungry._

_He’s mine._

_Mine to take._

These intrusive thoughts battled to the forefront of Minho’s mind again and he quickly shook them off. Jisung was more than a feed. He couldn’t let himself slip into that mindset, the harsh façade he upheld while he took what he pleased from the city’s lowlifes. Jisung was better than that. Jisung deserved better than that.

Minho’s fingers dug deeper, bruising Jisung’s skin under the oversized hoodie. The pained whine the younger cried as he pulled back snapped Minho’s mind back to the present. “Sorry,” He rushed out, fingers now rubbing soothing circles into Jisung’s side. His drive to keep the young man safe had won out, locking any unpleasant thoughts away for another time.

But when he followed up by searching out Jisung’s eyes in worry, all he saw was that overpowering want still clouding the younger’s senses and drowning out any hurt he should be feeling.

“Minho,” Jisung gasped, oblivious to the sting prickling at his sides. He moved back so he could see where his fingers had begun struggling to clumsily undo the drawstring of his sweatpants. His eyes were hazy, and he couldn’t think of anything beyond the need to get his pants off.

Minho’s stomach twisted, recognising the helpless way Jisung had absorbed all of the want Minho had been exuberating. Leaving him desperate and pliant, so, _so_ , very pliant.

“Minho,” Jisung repeated, eyes teary with a demand for help, tugging the knot in his pants tighter in frustration.

“Hush,” Minho strongly grabbed Jisung’s trembling hands, pulling them back to rest on his shoulders. He reached a hand up to cup the back of the younger’s head, drawing him down and placing comforting lips to Han’s forehead. “I’m sorry, I lost control for a moment there. You’ve got to calm down too.”

Jisung’s body trembled, letting himself relax once again into Minho’s hold as the elder started carding fingers through his hair. He couldn’t help still muttering his desires as he gasped for air between shudders, “Need you…. Need to… Touch… Want you...”

“Shush,” Minho hushed him again, “You just have to calm down for me first, Hannie.”

It took a few moments, but Jisung was able to catch his breath with the help of Minho directing each inhale. The shivering of his body subsided, and he drew back to look into Minho’s worried eyes, “Sorry,” He mumbled ashamedly,

“Don’t be,” Minho thumbed away a tear from the corner of the younger’s eye, “It was me who lost control first. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

Jisung nodded, leaning his cheek into Minho’s palm, sighing at the warm tingle it left on his skin.

“Maybe we should stop here,”

Jisung vehemently shook his head, eyes widening at Minho’s words and wiggling in discomfort, “I’ll be good. I swear. Please, please, please let me finish.”

Minho searched Jisung’s eyes, looking for the clarity that this was all him. When he didn’t see a hint of cloudiness, he gave Jisung a tight nod, “Just take it slower this time.”

Jisung nodded in return, this time when he kissed Minho it was cautious, teasing almost. He would delve in, nipping and sucking only to draw back and leave Minho to chase him. When Minho groaned after following after Jisung’s mouth for the third time, the younger giggled in delight and Minho looked up to see the mischievous glint dancing in the younger’s eyes.

It made him look alive. It made him look defiant. It reminded him that after all these few weeks together, Jisung was capable of being a master of his own mind too.

He liked that look on Jisung.

Pouting at the younger’s teasing, Minho whined pitifully until Jisung gave in and rewarded him with another tender kiss. His own repayment being that of finally helping Jisung undo the tangled string holding up his sweatpants, and maybe he pressed his palm against the bulge there a few times, tracing its shape first, just so he could feel Jisung shudder against his lips.

He was only just teasing the waistband of Jisung’s pants down when the two flinched in surprise at the sound of something heavy landing on the couch beside them.

Both of them turned towards the noise to see two beady eyes looking pointedly up at them. Doongie blinked slowly and gingerly raised a paw, prodding at the limited space between them to try and find enough room to fit a cat, ready for her post-dinner lap-time nap.

Jisung side-eyed Minho, amusement still lighting up his features, “Jub Jub never tries to cockblock me,”

Minho scoffed, “Your lizard lives in your bedroom. It literally sees everything!”

“Oh, come on, admit it. The red light of his heat lamp casts a sexy glow over the room.”

Minho gave him a disbelieving look,

“Besides, I can’t feel his judgmental stare. Your cats, on the other hand, they give me performance anxiety.”

Minho barked out a high laugh, “Bedroom then?”

“Bedroom.” Jisung quickly agreed.

The two fled the lounge room, leaving a disgruntled Doongie to settle into the warm place they left behind.

Jisung ended up on his back, sweatpants just low enough so that he could take himself in his palm while Minho hovered over him. Stripped was the thick hoodie that Jisung had wrapped himself in for the night, making room for Minho’s mouth and trailing hands. One of which was currently working on the junction between Han’s neck and shoulder, sucking on one spot excessively until Minho could see pink blooming, while the other left a trail of fire up and down Jisung’s chest.

Minho liked leaving marks, nearly as much as receiving them. Anything to show that Jisung was his and he was Jisung’s. Han couldn’t claim him in entirety the way they both craved, so the littering of bites and bruises marring otherwise flawless skin was a way to appease the hunger in them both.

“Min,” Jisung stuttered, the hand not working himself coming up to latch onto Minho’s bicep in warning, “I’m close,”

Minho conceded to the signal, drawing back with one light peck to Jisung’s lips before fleeing to the other side of the bed. He bit his lower lip and clenched his fists, nails digging into the soft flesh of his palm. All to keep himself in place as he watched Jisung groan and his movements stutter, ecstasy on his face as his hand continued to work him through the orgasm.

It was torture.

Having Jisung so close yet so far. Temptation right there. But Minho was stronger than that. He was better than that. So, he released his bitten lip, tasting the tang of iron on his tongue.

It was a rough night. Minho could feel excitement still buzzing in Jisung’s veins, and it was making him more muddled than usual as he drank in the younger man. He resigned himself to a cold shower as the safest course of action, otherwise, he might have lost complete control again.

Recovering his breath and grabbing a tissue off the nightstand to clean himself off, Jisung gave a curious look to Minho’s lower half, “Didn’t you get off wanna too?”

Minho quickly shook his head, “Not tonight. I’m feeling a bit on edge so it’s not worth it.”

Jisung frowned, feeling a touch of guilt work its ways into his blissed form,

“I just want you to be safe, okay?” Minho gave him a serious look, “I think we should probably be more careful going forward.”

“Okay,” Jisung agreed, mumbling after, “Makes me feel a little selfish right now though,”

“Seriously, I’m fine.” Minho laughed haughtily, “Seeing you lose your mind is enough for me tonight,”

Jisung gave Minho the finger and turned away from the cheeky grin upon his face, “Shut up.”

Minho shifted, smirk still evident, but dropping beside Jisung and propping himself up on an elbow, careful to leave some space between their exposed torsos, eyes following the still slightly elevated rise and fall of Jisung’s chest, “You staying over tomorrow?”

Jisung shook his head, a yawn overtaking his features, “Can’t. I’m expecting another late one at work and I need to go and check on Jub.”

Minho hummed in understanding, keeping the pout at bay because he knew Jisung still had his own life to get back to, but it didn’t make him any less disappointed about the future night alone, “I’ll see you on the weekend then?”

“Of course. We have another lead to chase up, right?”

“Right,” Minho agreed half-heartedly, stomach flipping in worry that the lead would turn into another dead-end like all the others. He tried not to dwell on the complete lack of headway he’d made, but it was hard not to when every day without progress meant another day of only admiring Jisung from a distance. Or another day spent stewing in guilt when he let himself give in just enough to hold the boy in his arms, only to regret it in the morning.

Not wanting to wallow in those tumultuous thoughts again, Minho quickly turned the conversation back, “I’d like to come to yours more, but I can’t trust the children alone for more than a night.”

As if called, there was a meow and scratching at the door. Minho groaned as he reluctantly moved off the bed, leaving the door open for three felines to eventually wander in for the night. Soonie immediately made his way up onto the bed where Jisung welcomed the large cat onto his lap again, running his fingers through the ginger fur and humming in response to Minho’s words, “I wish you could stay at mine more too. Especially with you not working at the shelter right now.”

“Thanks for reminding me I’m jobless,” Minho snorted. After quitting his job while avoiding Han a couple of months ago, he hadn’t bothered to go back to the shelter yet, hoping the extra free time would help him on his mission. It did not. All it did was leave him with too much time alone.

Jisung shrugged, “It’s not like you need the money anyway. I know you and Hyunjin are set for life from your sneaky little incubus circle.”

“Can you not say it like that? It sounds shady.”

“Babe.” Jisung’s tone was pointed, “It is kinda shady.”

Minho harrumphed, scooping up Dori from where he had started curling between his legs as he walked back towards the bed.

Jisung watched him with fond eyes, a sudden thought reoccurring, “I still can’t believe you lied to me when we first met.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific,”

“Housemates my ass,” Jisung grumbled,

“Hey! It has been well established I just wanted to get into your pants back then! And I don’t just let any stranger into my house, so that’s the perfect excuse. Besides, it worked, didn’t it?”

Jisung rolled his eyes,

“ _And_ , it wasn’t a complete lie. Soonie is my housemate and Doongie is his lady. I assure you it isn’t fun when you have to third wheel on their grooming sessions.”

Jisung giggled at Minho’s serious tone, despite the man referring to the cats as his children barely five minutes ago.

Placing Dori down at the foot of the bed, Minho looked over to Jisung, “I’m gonna go wash up and turn in for the night. You coming?”

Jisung hummed agreement, accepting Minho’s hand and being pulled into the bathroom, Soonie disgruntledly being ejected from his lap. Han had his own toothbrush tucked away, and Minho had even bought a bottle of his favourite face scrub and moisturiser. It made the younger’s stomach flip flop every time he remembered the domesticity of it all.

Minho jumped in for a quick cold shower while Jisung brushed his teeth – yes, he really needed it thanks to the image of Jisung arching off the bed with Minho’s name on his lips. Then he helped Jisung wash up too, already seeing the fatigue slip over the younger’s features and feeling that recurring pang of guilt. Jisung just smiled up at him with a yawn, mumbling something about being happy he’d be able to sleep well that night.

Moving back into the bedroom, they took up their usual positions, Minho manhandling Jisung’s post-orgasm pliant form until he could cuddle up against his back. Jisung was covered from head to toe in an oversized hoodie and sweats, striped fluffy socks on his feet and Soonie coiled up near his stomach. The other cats shifting between the foot of the bed and the tangle of their legs throughout the night.

Minho tucked his nose into the back of Jisung’s hood, his arm safely resting over his covered midsection.

Only once had he woken up with his arm curled tight over Jisung’s bare skin, the spark that ignited between them tingling and shocking him into consciousness. It was the briefest moment, but the regret still weighed heavy on Minho’s shoulders. He removed himself from the bedroom in shame to sleep on the couch for the rest of that night. It took a week and some strategically unannounced arrivals of Jisung into Minho’s apartment before the other agreed to sleep in the same bed as him again.

Minho had regretted giving Jisung a key to his apartment leading into that week.

“Night, Sung,” Minho mumbled into the soft hoodie,

Jisung hummed an incomprehensible response, mind already half lost to slumber.

Minho giggled at the garbled nonsense, feeling that same unknown emotion from the start of the night. The soft, wave of tenderness that both soothed him and made his heart race.

Jisung was an enigma, and Minho was having a difficult time still figuring it all out. But each day, he grew closer to the man bundled in his arms, and all he had to do, was get as close to finding a cure to match.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya,
> 
> I have been struggling to write much of anything the past few months since I finished this. Work and study have been slowly crushing me.
> 
> So, I decided that if I never complete the series of plot points I have mapped out for the follow up to this work, I wanted you to at least have a taste of our boys together as thanks for all the lovely comments I received on the first part. I have called this the interim because as you can tell, it really adds nothing to the storyline besides giving you a taste of how they moved forward.
> 
> I hope it's more of a treat than a tease.....


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